


A Second Chance

by RubyRaspberry



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows (2016)
Genre: All of the brothers love you fiercely, But that's why you're here right, But there's going to be plenty of fluff and bonding too, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I'm not good at trigger warnings, Leo is your rock, Might be smut down the line but you'll have to talk me into it, Mikey is your sunshine, Please note the abusive ex part just in case, Raph maybe in a different way, SOMEONE STOP ME ALREADY, Some Swearing, Some physical violence but it won't get too graphic, This story is not nearly as dark as summary suggests, To be fair your ex is bordering on yandere, You and Donnie share a special bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyRaspberry/pseuds/RubyRaspberry
Summary: Your relationship with Raphael takes an unprecedented turn after breaking things off with an abusive ex. As you begin to heal and explore this new chapter in your life, your former flame decides that he’s not done with you yet. What he doesn’t know is that your second family will stop at nothing to keep you safe. (Raphael x Reader)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! So I promise I'm going to wrap up Acceptance - I swear it 100%! I just felt like throwing this one out there too in the meantime, because I can somehow never get enough of Raphael. This story was written with the Bayverse turts in mind, but if you prefer a different incarnation, go for it! It's totally up to you how you want to imagine them. :) 
> 
> By the way, this fic isn't intended to be "heavy" in the sense that the reader is struggling to overcome an unhealthy lingering attachment to her ex (honestly, that much more accurately describes her former partner). A lot of it will be the reader bonding with Raph and the brothers, development of the new relationship, etc., with Punk-Ass Ex being there to complicate things whenever Overarching Plot steps in to say hello. You have already known the turtles for a couple of years prior to the start of this fic and established very close friendships with all four. I'll stop rambling now and post my latest awkward drivel!

At first, everything was numb. The truth still hadn’t registered.

Then, you raised a stunned hand to your cheek in disbelief. The skin felt raw and stung beneath your fingers, tangible proof that no, you weren’t imagining things. You gaped at your boyfriend while completely aghast. His expression was cold, almost derisive.

He’d never laid a hand on you before.

"I _said_  you‘re coming with me." Chet lowered his arm, though his hand was still clenched into such a tight fist that his knuckles had turned pallid.  "What's the big fuckin' deal, anyway? How come you're always looking for excuses to avoid seeing my family?"

You found your voice, and with it came your temper.

"Chet, I hurled my lunch into the wastebasket at work today. I'm physically ill! Do you want me to make your whole family sick, too?"

"Shut the hell up! You’ve got plenty of energy to argue about this, don’t you? You look fine to me!" he shot back, his face contorting and voice rising to a shout.

"You just slapped me in the face! You asshole! What the hell's wrong with you?" you shot back as the full severity of the situation hit you. You stepped away from him at the same time he took a menacing step forward. Chet Lawson was your boyfriend of eight months, though you would've been hard-pressed to believe that the outraged man standing before you now was the same sweet, flirtatious guy who had romanced you last year.

He stood fairly tall, over six feet in an athletic frame, and he was good-looking enough with shaggy dark blond hair and deep brown eyes. Little did you know that Chet and his temper were not on especially good terms, and while things had grown tense between the two of you over the past several weeks, it seemed as though anything you said or did could now set him off.

Chet scoffed dismissively as if your assertion had been laughable. Now you were the one sorely tempted to punch him in the face, though you maintained your calm as best you could. At least the streets of Manhattan were still bustling with people, so it was unlikely that he would try anything more dangerous out in the open.

But perhaps he'd done you a favor, given that the mounting contention had been pushing you toward an inevitable snapping point, much like a coiled spring ready to burst after enough pressure was applied. Quite literally he had just applied it, and you know what? You were done.

Screw this.

"No, I never want to see your family or your sorry, drugged-out excuses for friends ever again. In fact, I never want to see  _you_ again!" You thrust your finger into his chest, forcing him to fall back a few inches. His mouth fell open in sheer surprise as he stared at you, and you suspected that the sole reason he hadn't already taken a second swing at your head was due to shock. What the hell had you ever seen in this jackass? "Chet, we're through. Do me a favor and lose my number, and get out of my life. Don't come near me ever again, you abusive  _dick_."

You spun on your heel without waiting for a response. There was nothing he could've said to change your mind, anyway, as this had subconsciously been coming for a while now.

Though the gravity of the situation began to sink in after you'd stomped along for a good ten minutes in a righteous fury, and infuriated tears began to prick at your eyes. What the hell had happened to the two of you? You'd had at least what you'd  _thought_ was something good going there for several months. Many of your friends were already settling down and even starting to pop out babies. Yet here you were again, starting all over.

You cursed under your breath. As disgusted as you were with Chet, you also felt deeply betrayed. Your relationship had started out so well, so promising. How had it come to physical violence and a nasty breakup? In frustration you kicked the toes of your sneakers on the sidewalk, knowing that you had made the right decision by standing up for yourself and your own well-being, but it still didn't make it any less painful.

You stowed your hands in your pockets and slowed to an unhurried pace, especially now that you'd put several blocks between yourself and your now-ex boyfriend. With a heavy sigh, you noted that it was getting late and you ought to head home. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, imbuing New York City with a faint amber and pink glow that would soon give way to nightfall. Yet the thought of returning to your empty apartment to discard Chet's photos into the trash and unhappily dig into a pint of ice cream didn’t sound like a great way to spend your evening, either.

So you reached for your cell and fired off a quick text, then leaned back against the brick wall of a nearby storefront that had already closed for the day. You adopted your surliest stare to stave off any unsavory characters who might approach you now that New York’s night scene was advancing, though fortunately not even a drifter drew near to beg for spare change. You weren’t tightfisted, but right now you just weren't in the mood to deal with anyone save for very select company.

Your phone vibrated in your palm, and you felt a surge of relief when you read the response.

_Fearless: Of course you can. We don't have patrol tonight, so it's a great night for you to stop by. Come over whenever you like._

You smiled and pushed yourself off the wall, straightening up with a slight spring in your step that hadn’t been there moments before. While you may have just been forced to break up with the world's biggest asshole, you still could count on the greatest group of friends anyone could possibly have, so you supposed it all balanced out in the end.

You disappeared into a nearby alleyway. Once you were certain that you weren’t being observed, you hauled aside a heavy manhole cover with some effort. You lowered yourself onto the ladder before pulling the cover back into place, and descended the cold metal rungs down into the labyrinth of sewers that your best friends called home.

You took a moment to get your bearings and grow accustomed to the unpleasant smell, though that was par for the course by this point, considering you had known the brothers for almost two years now and had been visiting them underground for just as long. Then you pasted a wide smile onto your face before striding toward the cozy, elaborate lair that housed a pack of mutant ninja turtles and their wise sensei. The artificial attempt at cheerfulness probably wouldn't fool Donnie for a second, but hey, it was worth a shot.

"BABY CAKES!" You were bowled over by an orange and green blur the second you ducked through the entrance way and found yourself tackled to the floor in a graceless heap. You groaned a little in pain, but still laughed all the same as you reached up to wrap your arms around your dear friend's neck. "I heard from the Big Kahuna that you were dropping by! You're just in time to join me for an Arrow marathon!"

"My mannnn!" you exclaimed, clapping him on the back, albeit somewhat breathlessly as he still had you pinned and had knocked the wind out of you. "Sounds good, gummy bear, but can I have my lungs back first?" You had a long-standing habit of referring to each other with saccharine or ridiculous nicknames, which earned the two of you regular eye-rolls from his brothers, but neither of you would have it any other way.

"Aw, of course, beautiful!" Mikey grinned sheepishly before hopping off you and helping you up to your feet. You couldn't help it; your smile was far more genuine compared to before, as it was more than a little difficult to remain irritable around Michelangelo. He was a veritable source of constant sunshine, and his sky blue eyes twinkled as he dragged you over to the couch and you plopped down beside each other.

He wasted no time in shoving a large bowl of popcorn into your lap, where you noted with approval that he'd chosen the extra buttery variety, and you were feeling far less nauseous compared to earlier today. It couldn't hurt to enjoy yourself alongside your best friend for a spell, and before you knew it an hour had passed. Then you heard the familiar heavy footfalls of the two eldest turtles as they came to a stop behind you.

"Nice of ya to stop by the dojo and say hi." Raphael's voice was gruff and sarcastic, but you knew better. Mikey's attention remained glued to the TV, but you glanced over your shoulder to shoot your friend a playful smile. Sure enough, the red-clad turtle had his muscular arms folded across his chest as he stared down at you in a silent challenge, and his trademark toothpick jutted out of the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I'm doing it now. Hey there, Red." You winked, knowing that it was rare for him to grow upset with you in earnest. He was known for his blustery exterior and hotheaded temper, but honestly he was a hell of a lot softer than you'd think once he accepted you as one of his own, though you might risk a painful bump if you dared to tease him about it. All the same, you shared a tight bond beneath your long-standing friendship characterized by countless sassy remarks and cheeky quarreling, and when push came to shove no one could make you feel safer than Raph did.

Next to him stood Leonardo, who looked a little tired from their sparring session, but no worse for the wear as he used a damp towel to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead. As the team's leader, he was the very picture of composure and dependability, someone whom you had joined for many an afternoon in decompressing and peaceful meditation. Leo was arguably the most mature member of the team, and he possessed a certain gallantry that suited him well and assuaged your fears upon first meeting the brothers. His icy blue eyes flickered over to you and he gave you a warm smile in greeting, slinging the towel around his neck.

"Glad you could make it. Everything all right topside?"

"Yep. Just a typical evening," you answered, your smile faltering a little. You almost jumped out of your skin when Donatello's voice piped up from a few feet behind his brothers, emerging from his lab with almost calculated timing.

"She's lying." Donnie was perhaps the sweetest of the turtles, so despite the seemingly brusque statement, his tone wasn't the least bit accusatory when he made his way over to you. He knelt beside you and you found yourself at a loss for words, although you were cursing yourself. You  _knew_ that Donnie would see right through you. "( _Name_ ), what's wrong?"

His butterscotch eyes, magnified and glassy behind his taped spectacles, were trained on you with unmistakable concern. Donatello had been very shy to open up when you'd first met, but as soon as you’d established a bond of trust, you devoted countless hours of your lives waxing philosophical to each other with enthusiasm, and it turned out that he now knew you better than several members of your own family. The resident genius had a real knack for reading people as well, and you were pretty much incapable of pulling the wool over his eyes. You sighed and met his gaze with reluctance.

"Just uh...well..."

"Wait a moment. What's that?" He leaned in to peer closer at your face, and it took you a second to realize that he was focused upon your cheek. The scientist was also not one to overlook even the smallest detail, which was sometimes an asset and at other times really damn frustrating. Like right now.

"Is it still pink?" you asked with a hint of defeat in your voice.

"It's starting to form a bruise, actually." His large green thumb gently brushed against the spot where Chet had struck you, and your eyes widened. He'd hit you hard enough to form a  _bruise_? Damn it.  

"Everything okay?" Leo asked, though concern laced his deep voice. Even Mikey had paused his episode of Arrow to stare at you with worry. The cat was nearly out of the bag. You definitely didn't want to meet Raph's eyes as you explained what happened, as he was likely to boil over with rage as soon as he found out.

"Yeah. Now it is! Spending time with my second family always makes everything better."

"Hey. Don't dodge the subject by actin' all cheery," Raph growled, now eyeing you suspiciously. "Did somethin' happen up there?"

"Sadly, yes." You blew out a deep sigh. "I wasn't feeling well earlier today, and couldn't go with Chet to meet his family for dinner tonight."

"No," Donnie breathed, already piecing together the situation, as expected.

"He was angry. Really angry. Took it out on me, and--"

" _What_." There it was, right on schedule. You flinched a little as Raph's entire body tensed from his position a couple of feet away behind the couch, knowing that he'd probably flip the piece of furniture if you and Mikey weren't already sitting in it (hell, maybe he still would, if it was just Mikey). “Are you saying that bastard HIT ya?!"

His voice rose into a protective snarl, and Leo put a steadying hand on his arm. Popcorn scattered across the floor when Mikey cast aside the tub in favor of scooting across the couch, and he wasted no time pulling you into a tight hug.

"Baby girl, are you okay?!" He was shocked, and his eyes had widened to colossal proportions with concern.

"Guys, I'm fine! I'm fine. I promise, it barely even hurts anymore. It was more surprising than anything else." You hugged him back while feeling a little embarrassed, but also relieved to be able to speak up about it.

"This just escalated to a physically abusive relationship," Donnie pointed out nervously, "Where is he now? Is this the first time he's done something like this?"

"Yes. I'm not about to defend him, though," you grumbled, "No clue where he is right now, since I ditched him several blocks away. Oh, and I already dumped him, before you ask. Not setting myself up for that vicious cycle. If he's violent now, chances are high that it's only going to get worse as time goes on." Your voice cracked a little as you spoke, even though you knew you'd made the right decision in the long run.

"Good for you, baby cakes!" Mikey exclaimed, and Raph didn't bother hiding his loud grunt of approval at this news. Donnie's expression was still very soft, though, and the corners of his mouth remained wilted as he watched you.

"I'm sorry. I know that breaking up with someone is never easy." He always understood.

"Thanks, Donnie." He pulled you into a loose hug, slightly shy and limber just like him, but full of kindness. When you drew apart, you felt Raph's eyes digging into you and glanced over at him.

"Let me see that," he muttered, leaning over the back of the couch in a somewhat ungainly manner, given his massive stature. His large hand darted beneath your chin and nudged it up so you had no choice but to look him in the eye, and his irises darkened as he furiously took in the bruise on your face. "...Someone gonna remind me where that piece of shit lives again?"

"We're not going to hunt him down, Raph," Leo said while rolling his eyes. "All that matters is that ( _Name_ )'s safe."

"Yeah, brah! Plus she already broke up with that loser! Everything's gonna be okay, angel cakes." Mikey cheerfully mussed the hair atop your head, and Raph sent him an irritated glare before releasing you. You sank back into the couch while sighing and massaged the bridge of your nose with a couple of fingers. You'd hoped to keep the incident on the down low, but you should've known they'd figure it out and wheedle it out of you sooner or later.

When your best friends are six-foot-plus-tall walking, talking mutant ninja turtles, there are quite a few surprising perks involved, but unfortunately just as many downsides. Each of them had his own distinct and vibrant personality and they'd brought remarkable support and stability to your life once you grew close. You could rely upon them for virtually anything, and if you were ever in danger, you also had four walls of well-trained muscle who would stop at nothing to come to your aid and were more than a match for whatever came your way.

Regrettably, their friendship sometimes was the _reason_  your life became endangered in the first place, but hey, who's counting? Being a giant turtle versed in the ways of ninjutsu was an occupational hazard, and the guys were forced to confront terrorizing threats to New York on multiple occasions. Their status as mysterious vigilantes who operated from the shadows had marked them as targets for the Foot Clan and its leader Shredder in particular, though the Purple Dragon gang wasn't too keen on them either, after the brothers had thwarted several of their robbery and mugging attempts. It was a miracle that all four were still alive and in one piece.

Not to mention that they were just a little overprotective of you. Along with your close friends April O'Neil and Casey Jones, you were one of the select few human companions that the turtles had (did Vern Fenwick really count?), and as a result they often went a little overboard in their attempts to ensure your safety. They couldn't walk you home on the streets of New York, even at night, as the city never slept. But they would still pursue you from the shadows, darting from rooftop to rooftop with their weapons prepared as if braced to fight off an impending full-on assault if a passerby even glanced at you funny.

At least you never felt like you were in danger when walking home alone at night, although you went out of your way to try to avoid upsetting Raph. The hothead wasn't known for his self-control and cool temper, and he'd never seemed fond of Chet anyway. In retrospect, you realized that none of the turtles had ever approved of him, but they still supported you because you were like family. Your heart warmed at the thought. But all you needed was for the sai-wielding turtle to lose his shit and stalk down Chet to deliver the beating of his life (and he would do it, too, given the opportunity).

The sturdy couch groaned a little under the weight of the huge turtle who plunked down beside you a moment later, and speak of the devil, it was Raphael. You were no shrimp as human females went, but Raph was the team's bruiser and it showed in his physique. He was a solid hulking mass of green muscle with bulging triceps, and you'd even witnessed it first-hand when he once shattered a solid chunk of concrete with a single well-placed punch. By comparison you were a pathetically weak little creature, but damn was it reassuring to know that the firebrand was on _your_  side.

The mutagen that flowed through the boys' veins was administered by April O'Neil's father and the now-disgraced Eric Sacks during a series of experiments over two decades ago during the 90s. Originally they had been nothing more than mere box turtles (adorable, tiny little things that would have fit into the palm of your hand, based upon the old video recordings that April had shown you). The sage and respectable Master Splinter had also begun as nothing more than a literal lab rat, but mutagen imparted each of them with half-human qualities, resulting in their incredible sizes and impressive intellect.

If it weren't for the fact that they were technically mutant turtles, the guys could easily fit in with the rest of the human world topside, given their well-adjusted personalities and valiant natures. Sadly, New York (not to mention the rest of the world) was a very long way off from being prepared to accept the existence of something as shocking as the brothers, even if they were the literal heroes who had rescued the city on numerous occasions. It was a tough gig.

"'Ey. You listenin', short stack?" You blinked when Raph snapped two large fingers in front of your face to catch your attention. You realized that you must have been zoned out and lost in thought, and flushed a little in embarrassment. Mikey had already resumed the paused episode of Arrow and was thoroughly engrossed once more, and Donnie and Leo had retreated to the lab and shower respectively, but Raph's sharp green eyes were locked onto you rather than the TV screen. You should've known he wasn't going to let what happened slide, though you did appreciate his hard-headed brand of concern.

"Don't call me that. I'm not short," you retorted.

"Not how I see it," he said while barking out a laugh, his trademark smirk spreading across his face. "You're almost a solid foot shorter'n me, shrimp." He only did this to get a playful rise out of you, as was the nature of your relationship, though you weren’t really in the mood for it tonight. You shot him a sour look, although you couldn't bring yourself to be too acidic toward him.

"Never met anyone who called me 'short' or 'shrimp' until I met you," you mumbled, jabbing your elbow into the exposed, scaly skin of his side. You didn't have to worry about causing him any pain, as the sheer barricade of muscle that lined his stomach cushioned any blow that snuck past his plastron, and you had very limited strength to begin with compared to him.

"First time for everything, eh?" Raph's thick Brooklyn accent had grown on you over time, not that you'd ever straight-up admit it to him. But at least he had calmed down enough to resume poking some fun at you, which was a good sign.

"Yeah, yeah." You finally broke out into a stubborn little smile, and his smirk broadened as he chewed upon the toothpick tucked into the corner of his mouth. His arm extended comfortably around the back of the couch, coming to rest behind your head with a couple of inches to spare without actually touching you, which was nothing new. The guy had the whole casual-but-protective thing down to a science the way Donnie was capable of powering through advanced quadratic equations, and you were already well-accustomed to it by now.

Mikey whooped with excitement when a fight scene broke out on the television screen, though much to your embarrassment, your stomach began to growl loudly enough to even overpower the dramatic music blaring from the set. You supposed it made sense, as you'd hardly consumed anything all day after vomiting your breakfast at work an hour into your morning shift. The popcorn wasn't substantial, either, and either way it was now strewn across the floor. Raph snorted.

"Shoulda just said you wanted somethin' to eat."

"I didn't realize I was hungry," you protested.

"C'mon. Believe it or not, we've got some leftover pizza in the fridge." He rose to his feet, though the couch remained sagged in the shape of his shell, and you fought the urge to giggle. You accepted his outstretched arm and he pulled you to your feet before you followed him into the kitchen.

"What sorcery is this?" You marveled when Raph did indeed produce a large Antonio's box from the fridge that still contained a few slices of cold pizza a minute later. "I didn't know if was possible for you guys, particularly Mikey, to _not_ polish off every box of pizza that comes your way."

Raph rolled his eyes. "Shut it. Ya want a piece or not?"

"Sure. Thanks, Raph." He grunted in response before joining you with a slice of his own, and you both leaned back against the counter side-by-side as you munched upon the cheesy snack. You didn't mind that it was cold, and with the muted sounds of the TV in the distance and the comforting low hum of the refrigerator a few feet away, you found yourself releasing some of the tension you'd been holding onto all afternoon. It was definitely the right decision to come visit the turtles in the wake of what had happened.

"You all right?" Raph had already finished consuming his last bite, and now his voice was quiet, lined with a rare trace of concern that he so infrequently let show in front of the others. You knew what he meant and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm good. Just gotta move forward with my life," you answered, "No sense in staying with him, like I mentioned earlier."

"Nope," he agreed. A slightly awkward silence followed. "So. Ya gonna enjoy the single life again for a little while?" You almost choked on your remaining piece of crust, not having expected those words to come from _Raph's_ mouth, of all people. What on earth?

"Uh..." You trailed off after your very eloquent response, unable to look right at him, though you stole repeated glances out of the corner of your eye. "I...guess so?"

"Sorry. Real dumb question," he mumbled, shoving his hands into the deep pockets of the black track pants he'd worn while working out. Oh, man. If you'd thought the silence had been awkward before, it had nothing on this newfound discomfort. It was odd, but you were suddenly hyper-aware of the tall turtle standing only a few feet away, and his posture was unnaturally stiff.

"Yeah. That  _was_ pretty dumb, Red," you finally answered, and he quirked an eye ridge up at you, taking his red bandanna with him.

"What the hell was that?"

"Excuse me?"

"That took ya at least a couple of minutes to respond. If you wanna shoot back an insult, it's gotta be quicker than that." He scoffed, and you reached out to slap his broad forearm.

"Shove it up your ass."

"Could still use a lotta work, but at least the timing was better."

"Are you  _trying_ to get under my skin?"

You continued to bicker as you left the kitchen, thankfully also leaving behind that bizarre, awkward moment you'd shared. Leo had returned from his shower while you were absent and was now seated on the couch next to Mikey, though he didn't seem enthralled with what he'd seen of the show so far. You settled back in beside them, trying to force the afternoon’s events out of your mind and seek comfort in the company of your treasured friends.

A slew of irate messages, calls, and voicemails flooded your phone over the course of the evening, going unnoticed for a while in your bag. But later that night before bed, accompanied by a heavy grimace and a few tears, you deleted everything and blocked Chet’s number to prevent any further contact. You meant it when you said that you were done with him. He was a scumbag and there was no reconciling the relationship. It was over. As much as it pained you, you knew this.

Unfortunately, you’d soon learn that Chet wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me. I've got some hopefully cute (and occasionally even meaningful) chapters coming up for you and Raph - and the other brothers, too! 
> 
> BTW, I hope Chet is a douchey enough name; sorry to any decent Chets out there! Don't expect his creepy behavior to escalate immediately, but we'll get there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT, YOU LOVELY PEOPLE. <3 I should probably be thinking of chapter titles, but I'm going to continue to be lazy for the time being. I may rectify that in future chapters. :)
> 
> This one was very spur-of-the-moment, as I only have an "overall" idea of where the fic is going, but I had fun writing it. I actually live within reasonable driving distance of NYC, and driving on the east coast is horrendous, to say the least. The reader's dilemma is therefore largely inspired by my actual experiences of trying to drive into the chaos that is New York. ENJOY!

You stuffed yet another Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup into your mouth and crumpled up the wrapper before discarding it upon the passenger seat beside you, where it joined countless others that you’d been consuming for the past ten minutes. You felt obstinate as you chewed, allowing the chocolate to melt in your mouth and provide at least some measure of comfort.

You knew that it was a terrible idea to stress-eat, especially when all you had to munch on were snacks loaded with sugar, but you couldn’t help it. You were growing antsier by the minute and it didn’t look like things would improve anytime soon. You grabbed your phone and fired off a text to the first person that came to mind.

_(Name): If I have to spend one more millisecond sitting in my car, I might test out my old-ass Toyota’s potential for off-roading, just to dodge this shitstorm._

_Raph: Lol._

The response came without delay, much to your relief, as you definitely needed some form of distraction to keep you from losing your mind amid this dreadful gridlock of traffic. Your phone soon beeped again as a certain hotheaded turtle sent a follow-up message.

_Raph: how far out are you?_

_(Name): Still outside of New York. Seriously, we’re not even budging._

_Raph: sucks to be you. Accident?_

_(Name): Your guess is as good as mine. I’m eating my weight in candy right now._

You grumbled to yourself, feeling your eye twitch as your car finally inched forward, only to come to a dead stop again. Then you glanced back down at your phone, half-expecting him to make some ill-advised crack about your dietary choices for the evening. Luckily for him, he chose the more honorable route.

_Raph:  save some room for dinner with us, will ya?_

_(Name): Depends on what you guys are having. Can it top Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups?_

_Raph: just get your ass home already, and find out for yourself._

_(Name): Jerk._

_Raph: yeah yeah. Just stay safe, ok?_

_(Name): Will do. See you soon, Raph._

Well, this was a vexing way to wrap up what had otherwise been a pleasant three-day weekend. Being mired in a mind-numbing traffic jam wasn’t your idea of fun on even the best of days, and the congestion in these parts was nothing to sneeze at. Still, your impromptu little road trip had been worth it. It got you out of the city, granted you an opportunity to visit some friends you hadn’t seen in a long while, and the best part was that it gave you an excuse not to think about Chet for a few days.

It had now been just over two weeks since the breakup. You were doing fairly well, all things considered; you’d pitched most of his belongings straight into the trash and chucked his precious Saint Laurent Joe sneakers out your window, where they tumbled straight into a conveniently located dumpster several stories below. That had been cathartic.

But still…every now and then you couldn’t help but be reminded of him, of everything that you thought you’d had and then unexpectedly lost. As much as you loved New York, so much of it reminded you of Chet and it was like a breath of fresh air to escape from him for a weekend. But you also missed the turtles terribly, like you did every time you left. If there was no other bright side to come of all this, you now had far more free time to spend with them, so that had to count for something.

Your mood had improved by the time you cruised back into the city a (painfully long) hour later, though nightfall had already begun to set in. You still had to contend with the usual grumpy cab drivers and the exceedingly short fuse of the average New York motorist, until finally you were able to pull into your designated parking garage and escape the madness. You gathered your things and began to make your way toward the staircase leading to ground level.

“Hey.”

You gasped in surprise and tripped over a curb halfway across the garage lot. Oh, you knew that deep, gruff voice, all right. You almost felt a vein twitch in your forehead in disbelief as you turned and spotted—you guessed it—your favorite mutated terrapin in red.

He was propped casually against a nearby large black Chevrolet pickup truck with his arms doubled across his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be there. He didn’t bother to stifle a snort of laughter while you recovered your balance, and you glared at him in disbelief.

“What are you doing in here?” you hissed, whipping your head around in alarm to make sure that no one else was nearby who might witness this untimely little encounter. “Raph, you know they keep security cameras down here? What if you’re caught on tape?”

“Don’t sweat it,” he answered while shaking his head, and drew himself away from the car to approach you. “Donnie already hacked and disabled ‘em for me. It’s good for about ten minutes.”

You stared at him blankly, allowing the sheer recklessness of it all to sink in, and then rolled your eyes. “Somehow I have a hard time believing that Donnie was receptive to this plan.”

“He became plenty cooperative when I told him it was that, or risk our secrecy.” Raph’s mouth formed into a crooked smirk. You took a step back when he loomed over you, until you realized it was to snatch up your luggage. “Get upstairs, Short Stack. I’ll meet ya on the veranda.”

You grimaced. He would never relinquish that terrible nickname, would he? All the same you sensed the undertone of affection in his words, and technically he  _was_ carrying your belongings upstairs for you, albeit in an unorthodox way.

“I’m sure Master Splinter would have a few choice words for you on the matter of ‘secrecy’,” you grumbled to yourself as you entered the empty stairwell, knowing it was useless to try to lecture him, although you also knew that he would never  _purposefully_ do anything that would expose his family.

Once you climbed the stairs and made it up to the fourteenth floor of your apartment, you let Raph inside. He set down your luggage and then produced a large brown bag you hadn’t realized he was carrying.

“Figured ya might not feel up to comin’ out to the lair after being stuck on the road all day, so I brought dinner to you,” he explained, pushing it into your arms. You blinked in surprise.

“Oh, wow. Uh, thanks Red—”

“You’re welcome. Now hurry up and eat, will ya? It’s from Shanghai Café,” he interrupted before dropping onto your couch. “…Ya like that place, right?” There was the slightest hint of hesitation lining his voice, as if he wanted to make certain he hadn’t mistaken your favorite Chinese restaurant for somewhere else. You broke out into a smile at the unexpectedly thoughtful gesture and took a seat next to him.

“Yeah, I do. Why the rush, though? Do you need to head back to the lair for patrol tonight after this?” You began pulling out plastic containers of fresh combination fried rice, Kung Pao chicken, and steamed vegetables. You were stunned that he remembered all of your favorites, though decided against commenting on it. Raph shook his head and focused upon on your hands while you pried the lid off the container to the rice.

“Nah. It’s not that,” he muttered, “Just, uh…you’ve been eating nothin’ but trash all day. Figured it’s about time ya had an actual meal.”

“So you bring me fast food?” you teased him, and he scowled. “Raph, I’m  _kidding_! Thank you for doing this for me. That was really nice of you.”

“Mmhm. Sure thing.” He glanced over at your array of food, and then pointed defensively at the plastic container of vegetables. “Hey, at least I made sure ya had some green stuff in there, right?”

You almost choked on your fried rice as you began laughing. For some reason, the notion of Raphael looking out for you by ensuring that you got your veggies was a hilarious notion, though he didn’t seem to understand what was so funny. His brows knitted together and he pursed his lips, but finally began to grin a little as well, even if he had no idea why.

“Life before you was so dull.” Your giggles began to die down at last, and you used your chopsticks to shovel a piece of chicken into your mouth. “By the way, do you want some?” Your voice was muffled through the food and he shook his head, although he was eyeing your meal in a way that said otherwise.

“Already ate.”

“Lies. You’re always hungry,” you countered once you’d finished chewing and swallowing. He huffed at you.

“Not true.”

“So you’re saying you don’t even want a single piece of this delicious spicy Kung Pao chicken with me?” You picked up a piece of it using the chopsticks and held it out to him. “C’mon, I’ll even feed it to you!”

You were just joking, of course, although his eyes widened all the same. Before you could say or do anything else, much less make good on your little proposition, he snatched the chopsticks out of your hand. He stuffed the hunk of chicken into his mouth before passing the utensils back to you.

“There. Happy now?” he growled.

“Very.” Your eyes twinkled, knowing that he was just full of bravado. You filled him in about your trip as you ingested the rest of your dinner, though you still had enough for leftovers to bring into work for lunch tomorrow.

“So now what?” you asked, dusting yourself off once you’d finished storing the containers in the fridge and had returned to the living room, where the brawny turtle was still waiting for you upon the couch.

“If you’re feelin’ up to it, I wanted to show ya something tonight. Y’know, to get your mind off…everything.” He rose to his feet and loudly cracked his neck. You made a revolted face at him and he grinned, as he already knew perfectly well that you cringed every time he did that. Not that it ever stopped him in the slightest.

“Oh yeah? Does it involve forcing me to listen to you fracture your spine?” you suggested, and he scoffed while rolling his eyes.

“ _No_ , smartass. It’s a surprise, okay? D’ya wanna come or not?” You nodded, and he exhaled before leading you outside into the sharp evening chill. You shivered a little and shut the sliding glass door behind you. “Okay. Climb up on my back and hold on tight to my shell, got it?”

You were a little confused, but obediently began to clamber atop his kneeled form. You awkwardly angled your legs around him so that your ankles curled around his sides and encircled his shoulders with your arms, which resulted in the side of your face pressing closely against his cheek.

You remained like that for a couple of seconds before Raph’s eyes flickered over to you. His tattered red bandanna tickled your nose in the cool breeze and his mouth had fallen slightly open, to the point that his toothpick had even slipped out of his mouth without him noticing. It looked as though he was about to say something, but for some reason the words didn’t come. Finally you spoke into the strained silence to try to defuse the sudden, peculiar tension that hung thickly in the air.

“What? You’re huge! This is the only way I know how to make sure I don’t fall off!” You were indignant. But he shook his head, the odd moment now broken.

“Fine,” he responded a little too roughly, his voice sounding throatier than usual, “Let’s get goin’, then. We’re gonna be movin’ fast, so don’t let go!”

Without another warning, he vaulted his sturdy legs over the side of the balcony and seized the nearby fire escape, and finished scaling it in a matter of seconds. Then you were on the open rooftop and he was tearing across the concrete, fearless and adept and powerful, and you gasped when he began hurdling himself across the gaps between buildings.

Though each aperture was narrow thanks to New York’s crowded infrastructure, you constricted your grasp around Raph’s shell all the same while the world blurred beneath you. If you slackened your grip for even a moment, you would plunge several stories below and in all likelihood would not survive the fall. Yikes.

But all macabre thoughts soon faded away and were replaced with nothing but sheer adrenaline and excitement, as Raph had now begun to ascend the steel framework of a towering skyscraper that you’d only ever glimpsed from a distance. He grunted with the physical exertion but seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself as he hoisted the two of you up higher, bypassing a curtain wall of glass in favor of reaching for another ledge constructed from reinforced concrete.

You clung to him tightly as his muscular body contracted and flexed beneath you, feeling hyper-aware of his every movement and heavy intake of breath as the upward hike continued. An icy night draft swept through you, disheveling your hair and drawing out a little shudder, yet in many ways you had never felt so alive. You gazed upon the expanse of the enormous metropolis that stretched out all around you like a sparkling sea of grey dusted with fluorescent city lights, marveling in the avant-garde beauty of it all.

When you reached the very apex of the building, Raph crouched a little so you could safely climb down, though you still grabbed a hold of his arm to help steady your balance. You were both silent at first as you absorbed the resplendent view, the only sound being the turtle’s labored breathing as he recovered from the effort it had taken to ascend the monumental tower. The pale, luminous light of the waxing moon sluiced over you, casting dreamlike shadows across the city as it met jutting monoliths.

Finally, your companion uttered a one-word question, one that was weighty, expectant, and nervous all at once.

“Well?”

You squeezed his arm tighter as you couldn’t stop turning your head in an attempt to drink in the entire magnificent cityscape. So it was this unparalleled view that he had wanted to share with you.

“It’s the same city we see every day and night, yet from up here it’s like a whole other world,” you managed to say, your voice choking a little with wonder. With some effort, you tore your gaze away from the scene in front of you and looked up at him. He felt the weight of your stare and returned it. “Do you come up here often, Red?”

“Once in a while,” he answered in a distant tone, “Sometimes if I really need some space from my brothers, or to think, or just remember to appreciate how beautiful this city really is.” The confession was unusually poignant and hinted at a far more profound side of Raph than he normally let show. “The view can’t be beat, and let’s just say that no one ever bothers ya up here.”

“I’d imagine not,” you whispered, returning your eyes to the sprawling landscape that stretched out below you, extending as far as the eye could see. The horizon was a deep, muddled canvas of black, and you had never seen the constellations of stars more clearly than you did right then, as if you were privy to a beautiful spectacle that was completely untouched by man.

“Thank you for showing me this, Raphael.” You each took a seat when you reached a mutual unspoken agreement that you’d be staying for a good while longer. One of his thick arms rested behind you, a few scant inches behind the small of your back, in a precautionary gesture to prevent you from unintentionally falling back. Your legs bumped together seeing as how you had limited space for the two of you at the very precipice of the skyscraper, though there was no discomfort involved.

You simply could be, just as you were, and for at least one night, you were reminded of the fact that the universe was so much larger than you and your comparatively diminutive world.

“So tell me. Does this view ever make even  _you_ feel small?” you asked at length, a faint trace of mischief lacing your voice.

“Every time I come here,” he replied truthfully, and you grew solemn again. “Reminds ya that you need to keep things in perspective, y’know? Even when things get rough down there, this always helps ground me again. Might sound a bit ironic, though.” You shook your head.

“No. I get exactly what you’re trying to say. It’s all so surreal, and I needed this a lot more than I realized. If it weren’t for you, I’d never have been able to see this. Raph…thank you.” You rested your head against the side of his arm as your windswept hair danced around your face, feeling as though your bond had just deepened and cemented your friendship in a way that nothing else ever could.

“You’re welcome.” He briefly placed his free hand atop your head as if to smooth down the unruly tresses. After an indeterminate amount of time had passed the night chill began to seep into your bones, as you’d come ill-prepared for such an endeavor. You agreed that it was best to head back, though Raph promised that it wouldn’t be the last time you would see this.

Both of you were tired when he dropped you off at your apartment, but it had been worth it. You hid a yawn behind your hand and then without thinking, wrapped your arms around Raph’s midriff in a warm, grateful hug. You half-expected him to freeze up or shove you away, but much to your surprise he immediately returned it, his powerful arms securing you against him in a rare, proper embrace. You had to admit, as much fun as you had bantering with him, you were tickled pink to see his softer side emerge.

“Thanks for showing me the world and then getting me home safely all in one night,” you said, your voice muffled from where your head was pressed against his hard plastron. “Also, thanks for dinner. I’ll see you soon, tough guy.”

“No problem. Yeah, see ya soon.” You released each other. “By the way, welcome home. Wasn’t the same without ya around here.”

You gently punched his forearm. “Glad to be home. Make sure you go get some rest after tonight’s workout. I’ll even hound Leo to make sure you do it, if necessary.”

“Pssht. No need,” he scoffed a little, sounding more like his usual self again, “Go crash so you’re not late for work in the mornin’. Night, Short Stack.”

“Night, Red.” Your eyes met once more before he set out into the murky night, his massive form disappearing before your eyes. For the first time in almost two weeks, thoughts of Chet hadn’t crossed your mind once, and it was the most wonderful reprieve. You fell asleep within moments when you collapsed upon your bed that night, where you dreamed of beautiful, shimmering night skies and a pair of striking green eyes.

Regrettably, you didn’t remember any of it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get around to you at some point, Chet. Turt bonding is more important!
> 
> Raph: eAt yOUr GReEnS!
> 
> (The most important takeaway from this chapter. BE KIND TO YOUR HEALTH, EVERYBODY. _sorry to anyone who's allergic to peanuts_ )


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We steal a look at the other side of things. Chet’s not taking it well. 
> 
> Fair warning: the first half of the chapter is very heavy, while the second half is a hundred times more light-hearted to balance it out. GET YOU SOME BONDING WITH YOUR MICHELANGELO

A friend had once told him that letting someone go can make you stronger. As the quote went, there are all kinds of ways for a relationship to be tested, even broken; but it’s the endings we’re unprepared for.

Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Chet Lawson stared blankly ahead without registering anything ahead of him, his eyes glassy and unseeing. He only bothered to grab a discarded pair of boxers from the floor before stepping out to the patio. Dark circles bloomed beneath his eyes and his hair was a slovenly mess. A thin wisp of smoke wafted up from his mouth as he leaned upon the railing, the cigarette long forgotten.

A month. It had already been a  _month_ since you left him, yet it was still as raw as if it had happened yesterday. It felt like you had left a figurative trail of destruction in your wake, affecting him in ways that he never conceived possible. You led him to do several things he wasn’t proud of now that you were no longer in his life, all in a wretched effort to fill the insatiable void caused by your absence.

Chet grimaced when the night before came back to him in fleeting snatches. It was all teeth and tongue, cloying perfume, sweat clinging to bare skin, moaning and panting as she begged him to go harder, their bodies writhing, skin-to-skin and frantic hips. Already he regretted it. It was over nearly as soon as it had begun, bereft of anything more profound than carnal attraction.

In other words, it was meaningless. They never spoke afterward. Still they hadn’t exchanged a word, not even when the stranger woke up beside him twenty minutes ago with smears of lipstick dotting her skin and mascara caked beneath her eyes. Instead of greeting him with the familiar morning kiss and sleepy smile he’d grown accustomed to with you, the woman didn’t spare him a bleary second glance before turning over and showing him her back.

He still didn’t even know her name, he realized. Everything about the night before had been superficial to the point that he couldn’t believe he’d sunk so low. He dragged a weary hand across his face. This…had been a mistake. Goddammit.

The bottom line was, she wasn’t  _you_. The guys had urged him to take a chance yesterday, to stop his incessant brooding long enough to accompany them on a wild ride through Manhattan’s night scene. They jeered and whistled when the woman came onto him at the bar, already so sloshed that she was pawing at his jeans within minutes of meeting him. His inhibitions soon deserted him, coaxed away by several potent shots of vodka and the agonizing lack of your touch.

The rest was a blur. Now he was left feeling sullied and worse than ever the morning after.

Chet had endured a bevy of emotions when you left so unexpectedly, running the gamut from fury to frustration to resentment to regret. He tried calling you more times than he cared to count, only to be met with your voicemail until you finally blocked him. He called April O’Neil, too, in a desperate hope that one of your closest friends might be willing to bridge the gap and talk some sense into you.

Unfortunately, April had a few “choice” words for him before she slammed the phone down and blocked his number, too.

So that was what led him to linger outside of your apartment building in the weeks that followed. Repeatedly. He waited for any sign of your approach, recalling that you’d be off work by a certain time, yet for some reason you never showed. Where were you  _going_ every afternoon after clocking out these days? Don’t tell him that you’d moved somewhere else just to avoid being forced to confront him!

His determination only grew from there, however. When he stepped into your office after multiple unsuccessful attempts to catch you at home, the secretary’s face tightened into an instant scowl. Apparently you’d informed her that you and Chet were done, because she was already reaching for the phone to call security before he could take a step further.

“Wait!” he protested, even as an on-duty security guard began to approach, “I’m not going to do anything! I just want to talk to her. I won’t hurt her!”

“A bit late for that, don’t you think?” The secretary’s voice was glacial, a testament to the fact that he would never be permitted past the front door to see you again. His face dropped when he realized she wasn’t going to budge. At least for the time being, it looked like he was out of options.

Now here he was, several weeks single and no better off than he’d been before, lamenting his misfortune and unable to banish the haunting memory of your face from his head. In some ways it still didn’t feel real that you’d broken up with him. Fuck, no one had  _ever_  dumped him before. Chet had stayed with you longer than he had with any other woman, which might not be saying much for some, but for him it was life-changing. It had started out as nothing more than a fun game, romancing you last year and turning on the charm just to see how easily he could win you over. Just like all the rest. It bolstered his pride and confidence, and it was just another victory when you agreed to go out with him.

What he hadn’t been counting on was when he ended up falling for you for real. What was initially supposed to be a week-long “relationship” soon turned into two weeks, then a month. Then several months. Before he knew it, Chet found himself no longer going through the motions, but genuinely enjoying spending time with you, basking in the unconditional affection you offered him, and growing far more attached to you than he ever intended.

He wasn’t just calling you his girlfriend; he wanted you to interact with his family and friends and hoped to integrate you into his life in a way no other woman had before. He yearned to wake up beside you every morning, and eventually he came to understand that he would not be able to let you go like all of the girls who came before you. Nothing had gone according to plan, but for the first time, he was grateful for that fact. Shit, he had even started to consider popping into a jewelry store to take stock of their rings.

It wasn’t a game anymore.

Then tensions began to heighten. Tempers flared on both sides for trivial reasons. Chet’s frustration escalated whenever he felt you didn’t have time for him, and you were furious when he began to accuse you of seeing other men. You didn’t take kindly to gaslighting and attempts to control your social life, and over time he became increasingly paranoid. You had never given him a reason to feel so suspicious of you, but it was almost as if the longer the relationship went on, the more attached he became. You could feel the proverbial hooks sinking deeper and deeper into you every day, a gradual but undeniable development that did not bode well.

Even if only subconsciously, it made you want to pull away from him. And when Chet sensed it, a part of him began to panic. He grew more demanding and prone to snapping, insistent upon finding out who you were seeing and why you hadn’t moved in with him yet, all while you pushed back and refused to entertain him until he calmed down and apologized. It only made it worse.

Chet couldn’t understand. Hadn’t he been as important to you as you were to him? After years of being an object of desire for innumerable women, he was unfamiliar with the notion of someone pushing  _him_ away. When everything had come to a head on the day you left him, he’d begun to see red after you came up with yet another excuse to not join him and his family for dinner. They were so excited to see him finally looking to settle down with someone…they were excited about _you._ Why couldn’t you see that? Were you just hoping to make him look bad by standing them up? The prickling irritation sparked to life.

He knew he shouldn’t have. But it was almost as though he no longer had control of himself when he raised his hand to you for the very first time. In retrospect, it was the culmination of weeks of bickering and distrust, not that it made it right. But there was no taking it back now.

Shock engulfed your face the moment he struck you. More angry words were soon exchanged and his body flooded with a white-hot rage when instead of apologizing and agreeing that you were just being unreasonable, and  _of course_ you’d come to dinner, you continued to refuse him.

Then you opened your mouth to devastate his world.

_I never want to see you again._

_We’re through._

_Don’t come near me ever again._

He was rattled to his very core. Whatever he’d expected you to retaliate with, that hadn’t even been on the radar. You meant it, too. You turned your back on him and left him behind, and you’d rejected his every attempt to contact you ever since.

Chet’s eyes burned. He gasped, almost fumbling his cigarette as he was drawn back to the present in such an unpleasant fashion. He scrubbed at his eyes using the back of his hand. No. He wouldn’t let it come to this. The last time he’d been brought to tears was when he was a mere child and his father screamed at him for not being more assertive like his brother. Even now the distant memory stung, though it had served to help shape him in the years that followed. He learned to swallow his fear, to be the one others admired and looked up to for his self-assurance and charm, until he had been redefined as an adult. No one else could hurt him if he hurt them first, and he took that lesson to heart.

Then he met you and like an idiot, he let you in.

_how could you hurt him_

Jesus, it wasn’t stopping. He tried to stem the flow, but it was already too late. It was as if a dam had been unleashed, and he had to stifle the mortifying sob lodged in his throat.

_how could you hurt him??_

He was alone, and fuck, he missed you more than he ever wanted to admit to anyone, even himself. As the tears rolled down his cheeks and his face turned scarlet with both misery and rage, he slammed his palms down upon the railing in front of him. Behind him the unknown woman began to stir in bed, perhaps roused by his grief.

It hurt like hell. He was vulnerable and exposed and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back between your sheets again, welcome you into his arms, feel your lips brush his chest and reassure him that you were all his and you’d never leave him. His shoulders shook uncontrollably.

_HOW COULD YOU HURT HIM?_

He ignored his bed companion from the night before, who was now sitting up and eyeing his sobbing form with alarm. Rather than rising to her feet to offer him comfort, however, she began awkwardly casting about for her clothes. Within minutes she was re-dressed and hurried out of the apartment with her heels in hand, the door falling shut behind her with a soft click. All without so much as a word, not even to say goodbye or thank him for his company the night before.

Chet knew they’d never see each other again. Not that he cared. All he cared about anymore was the awful vacuum you’d left inside him, emptier than he’d ever felt, and he hated you for it. He loathed you for doing this to him, for making him feel weaker than he’d ever been. It made him want to wring your neck. Yet at the same time, he just wanted to fall back into you and beg you to come back to him because he loved you.

He almost choked on the words. He  _loved_ you and he’d never actually told you those words. Probably because he was so unaccustomed to voicing them himself, the man with notch after notch on his belt, at least until he met you. That wasn’t him. Not anymore. Now even a one-night stand made him feel like shit, and he wondered if he hated himself as much as he detested you right now.

You hurt him. You walked away. You were hiding things from him. He couldn’t trust you. Your fault. This was all your fault. Everything was your fault.

He chanted the mantra in his head as he slowly continued to break down, wet trails coursing down his cheeks. He cursed your name for doing this to him. It was so easy to blame you. Conversely, it was so much more difficult to look in the mirror and see what role he’d played in the deterioration and sticky end of your relationship.

He wasn’t the type to forgive any slight easily, let alone something of this magnitude. If you thought you were going to walk away from him like this and throw away everything the two of you had had, you were sorely mistaken. You had another thing coming and it was all. Your. Fault.

Chet’s judgment was too clouded by his rush of ire and self-pity to consider for even a moment that just perhaps,  _he_  was the one who had hurt  _you_.

~*~

One of Mikey’s self-fashioned nicknames was Dr. Prankenstein, and while you had known him for a couple of years now, you had yet to see him pull more than the occasional tame prank on his brothers. What the heck was up with that?

So when you brought up this disappointing fact to him one afternoon after work, he was more than happy to suggest that the two of you embark on a glorious pranking escapade together, one that would involve all three of his brothers and most likely get you kicked out of the lair for the rest of the day.

You agreed that if it came to that, you’d escape to your apartment and lock every door and window.

So that led to you rubbing your hands together while cackling deviously in his bedroom behind his closed door, plotting just how you would pull this off and hashing numerous ideas back and forth. Once you’d determined each brother’s fate, you headed up to the surface to purchase a few additional supplies that you’d be needing from the grocery store.

“( _Name_ )? What’s going on? I thought you already came and went?” Donnie asked once you returned with a brown grocery bag secured in the crook of your elbow, your face flushed from the brisk air above ground. You smiled and said you were just picking up some bathroom supplies to help keep the lair well-stocked. You left out the words “at Mikey’s request”, knowing fully well that would sow a seed of suspicion in the genius' mind.

Once you returned to Mikey’s room, you snickered together and kept reminding each other to keep it down as you spread out your tools of destruction upon his bed. The time was nigh!

“Okay, I’ll get started on Donnie’s,” Mikey whispered eagerly before seizing the package of Oreos you’d just bought. His older brother had a soft spot for not only Pop-Tarts, but also a wide variety of cookies and other sweets (admittedly, a turtle after your own heart). You handed him a tube of Crest toothpaste next, giggling almost nonstop.

“Okay, then I’ll work on Leo’s in the meantime.” You held up a small bottle of clear nail polish and pried open a box of Irish Spring solid soap. Once you finished preparing those and set them aside, you snuck out into the rest of the lair to set up your remaining pranks.

You strode over to the dojo and made casual small talk with Raph to keep him distracted while Mikey slipped into his room with a certain object and a roll of duct tape. He emerged five minutes later and shot you a discreet thumbs up to let you know that it was ready to go, and you only needed to take care of one last thing before you started reaping the benefits of your conniving efforts.

You disappeared into the kitchen to plant the Oreos in the cupboard while Mikey replaced Leo’s soap in the bathroom, and all that was left now was to wait. You flopped down on the couch together to await the impending bedlam, grinning at each other nonstop the whole time like fools.

“Ya both sure look real happy about something,” Raph commented, glancing over at you once he’d finished his workout and headed down the hall to his room. Leo smiled and greeted you both once he exited the dojo as well, making a beeline straight for the shower. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Hey, Mikey. I bought some cookies and stuck them in the cupboard for you guys to share, just so you know,” you said loudly enough for Donnie to overhear, not wanting him to miss out on the fun.

“Sounds good, tootsie roll! I’ll be sure to grab some later when I get hungry!” Mikey commented back as he played along, his baby blue eyes twinkling with laughter.

Sure enough, within only a couple of minutes, Donnie emerged from the lab and made his way over to the kitchen. You heard the tell-tale rustling of plastic, and had to put your fist in your mouth to stop yourself from laughing too loudly. Mikey put his arm around you while trying to stifle his own snickers, and you bumped your heads together like two wicked little devils who couldn’t wait to collect their souls.

Then, pure chaos unleashed throughout the lair in one magnificent, fell swoop.

“Ugh! What is this?!” Donnie shouted in the kitchen, and immediately the faucet began running as he made gagging sounds and spat into the sink. The deafening sound of an air horn exploded down the hall at almost exactly the same time, quickly followed by an outraged roar from Raph.

“MIKEYYYYY!” he boomed.

“What’s going on?!” Leo shouted from the bathroom, his voice muffled by the sound of running water and a resounding crash from the shower. Within a matter of only a minute, all three had stormed into the den. Donnie looked disgusted while clutching an opened bag of “Oreos”, Raph wore a look of fury that he typically only reserved for his youngest brother, and Leo was dripping wet, wearing a towel, and holding up a bar of bright green, completely useless soap.

“Mikey! What did you do?” Donnie demanded, “Did you fill these Oreos with toothpaste?!”

“Actually, that was my idea,” you admitted, no longer able to contain it as you burst out laughing so hard that your sides felt like they were splitting. He gaped at you in shock. “S-sorry, Don!”

“Wha—?! It was  _you_ , Short Stack?” Raph snapped in disbelief, “Did ya plant that frikkin’ air horn behind my door too, then?”

“Nope, that one was me,” Mikey said cheerfully before he doubled over with laughter as well.

“And this soap? Did one of you have something to do with it?” Leo inquired while shaking his head at you.

“Team effort,” you said in unison. His brothers all exchanged dark looks, and then turned back to you.

“Mikey’s clearly been a terrible influence on you, ( _Name_ ),” Donnie said while shaking his head.

“But ya ain’t gonna get away with this,” Raph growled, cracking a menacing knuckle, “Tell ya what, since it’s ( _Name_ )’s first offense, I’ll give ya guys a head start. One minute.”

“RUN, BABY GIRL!” Mikey hollered, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet, his shout still perforated with howls of laughter. You didn’t waste any time questioning it, as for once you’d provoked Raph’s infamous temper, and you followed the orange-masked ninja down an adjacent hallway until you found a nondescript closet and dove inside. You constantly shushed each other while trying to quell your nonstop snickering, and after a couple of minutes finally managed to quiet yourselves down.

“That was fun,” you whispered.

“Right on!” he whispered back, “Totally worth it, right?”

“Yes!” It was a little cramped inside, as the closet was already crammed full of boxes of belongings and spare cleaning supplies, but there was still just enough room for you to fit. Maybe not for more than a few minutes, though. You kept shushing each other and giggling back and forth, setting each other off again every time one of you happened to catch the other’s eye. You were both hopeless, really.

Finally, you both went silent for a few minutes as you listened to the sounds of his brothers (well, mainly just Raph) stomping around the lair and searching for you.

“Hey, angel cakes,” Mikey said under his breath once another minute had passed. You made a face at him. He was going to give you guys away!

“What?” You squinted at him in the muted lighting.

“There’s something I actually wanted to ask you about.” He grinned awkwardly while scratching at the back of his head. “I guess you could say I started noticing a few things recently. Y’know. I feel kinda stupid after all this time, but I guess I just never looked at it this way before. Have you—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the closet door swung wide open, revealing a malicious-looking Raph. You squeaked in surprise despite yourself, shying away into Mikey’s chest even though you knew that Raphael would never actually lay a finger on you to harm you in a million years.

“There you two are,” he growled, “Can’t hide forever! Retribution’s a bitch, eh?”

You squealed as you darted out past him in the blink of an eye, slipping beneath his arm and escaping down the hall before either of them had any time to react. Mikey whined in betrayal behind you, but you cackled in triumph before deciding to duck behind some equipment in Donnie’s lab until it was safe to come out again.

The good-natured scientist merely shook his head, shooting you a wry grin before settling back down at his desk and pretending he didn’t know your whereabouts whenever Raph or Mikey asked where you’d run off to. That was one of the things you liked best about Donatello; despite his sheer genius, he wasn’t above playing along or participating in something so puerile, not even after you’d spiked his Oreos. That was love right there.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a hectic tumult, and eventually the others seemed capable of appreciating the humor in the pranks they’d suffered, though Raph chased Mikey around the lair for almost half an hour straight before he was satisfied. After that everyone ended up ordering a stack of loaded pizzas to savor for dinner, and you were pleased to see that even Master Splinter was joining you. All in all it was a fantastic day, with the only blip on the radar being that bizarre moment in the closet with Mikey.

What had he been about to say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO YEAH. As tricky as the breakup has been for our MC, at least she has the turtles to help her heal, whereas Chet's taking it 10x harder. I didn't want him to just be some one-dimensional creep who goes, "I'm an abuser because that's the only aspect the author bothered to give my character!" Nothing excuses what he did, but I hoped to demonstrate that at least he has more layers/depth to him than what we already knew about him prior to this chapter.
> 
> EDIT: I wanted to make it clear here, just in case there are any misunderstandings as a result of this chapter. Don't worry, Mikey does NOT have the hots for the reader. :) With the exception of our boy in red, the brothers' feelings toward you are entirely platonic in this story, like their sister or best friend.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I really am trying to update my fics more quickly; apologies for the slight delay. I’ve been working 12 to 14-hour shifts every weekday now for over a month (for no extra pay, because I’m salaried. Yay!). 
> 
> That being said, I’m doing my best to get at least something posted. It's not quite as long as I'd like and a bit on the somber side, but hopefully better than nothing. Today we see that Raph’s not always as undaunted as he seems on the surface. Maybe he cares for you more than even he realized.

Raphael dreamed that he was making his way through a labyrinth of dilapidated old tunnels, where the air was rank and moist. Perhaps he was somewhere in the sewers, although something about the empty passages caused a cold beat of sweat to collect upon his brow.

His field of vision grew hazy, his peripherals obscured. The sound of his footsteps crashing against wet cement was oddly dull as if stifled by some unseen force. His breathing felt erratic and he had no idea what he was searching for as he crept through the maze below the slumbering city.

“Leo?” Raph called out. His voice felt raspy as if it had undergone months of disuse. “Donnie? Mike? Sensei?”

He was met with an overpowering, stifling silence in response, and a shudder crept down his spine. What was going on? Why did his limbs feel so leaden and useless? The fetid stench clinging to the air was almost unbearable, and that was saying something considering he had spent the entirety of his life residing in the sewers.

When he rounded yet another corner, he skidded to a halt. A pair of Foot Clan soldiers rigidly stood guard down the passage with their backs facing him. At once he was the picture of stealth, reaching for his sai in practiced preparation. He snuck behind them and remained undetected until he was within mere feet of the enemy ninja. Then something  _else_ caught his attention, and in less than an instant his whole world threatened to crash down around him.

A familiar form was buckled down upon the floor only a short distance away, a tangle of inert limbs and disheveled hair. Raph froze as horrified recognition swept through him. Your skin had turned ashen, and a thin trickle of blood escaped the corner of your mouth to join a slick of crimson that gathered beneath your unmoving body. Oh, shit.

He croaked out your name in disbelief, and his offensive stance sagged as his knees suddenly felt weak and threatened to give out beneath him. It became a severe challenge to breathe, as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. The Foot soldiers spun around at once and readied their blades, giving him no choice but to to raise his own weapons again.

Fortunately he had taken down enough generic Foot goons in his day that they posed no actual threat, and he dispatched both of them in a matter of minutes despite the enervating effect of the environment upon his reflexes. Every movement was a cold, calculating fury born of his indignation that any of them had dared to even lay a finger upon you.

He flung his sai out of the way and flew to your side, dropping to his knees and elevating your head to check your condition. He desperately pressed the side of his head to your clavicle, noting that you were barely breathing and your heartbeat was faint.

“Damn it. Can ya hear me? Stay with me! You’ve gotta hang in there!” Raph barked, his voice rising in both volume and panic with each word. After a very long moment, your eyes flickered open, and the deadened, feeble look in your usually expressive gaze frightened him in a way that he hadn’t felt since he thought they had lost Master Splinter a few years before.

You tried to smile, but the exertion was too much and you broke into a coughing fit that expelled more blood from your mouth. He noted that the source of the problem was a deep wound gouged in your side, presumably by the same Foot soldiers, and almost fumbled his hands in his rush to untie the deep scarlet mask from around his head.

He wound it tightly around your waist to create a makeshift tourniquet, long enough to find a way out of here and get you back to Donnie, though his heart sank when it quickly soaked through with blood.

He tried to ignore the fact that these tunnels were completely unfamiliar and that he hadn’t the slightest idea where he was going. He hefted your ravaged body up into his arms, and with tremendous effort you managed to curl your own arm around his shoulders.

“Raph?” Your voice was an indistinct, breathy whisper. He reminded himself to stay calm, no easy feat considering the panic that was proliferating in his chest. But right now, he had to find a way to keep a cool head,  _for you_ , no matter how dire the situation was. As long as he kept it together, he’d be able to find a way out of this nightmare. He had to. You were counting on him.

“I’m right here. Just hold on, all right? I’m gonna get us out of here,” Raph told you, and your eyes fell shut as you leaned against his plastron. Your hair was matted with blood and almost every ounce of your strength had deserted you. He protectively held you closer while remaining mindful of your injury, debating the best course of action from here. Hell, if he found a damned manhole cover, he would even risk exposing himself to the world above if it meant getting you to a hospital in time.

“Raph...” You repeated his name, even more softly this time, and your arm slackened its weak grip around his shoulders. It fell limply by your side and your body slumped in his arms, and it took him a moment to realize that you had gone still. Even the sluggish rise and fall of your chest had ceased, and the final indication of your fight for life vanished before his very eyes.

He went completely numb.

“( _Name_ ).” He shook you gently as a glacial chill crept through his every vein. His mind seemed to go blank while all coherent, rational thought fled from him. No. “Hey, wake up. We’re getting out of here, remember?” His voice cracked. When you failed to respond, he shoved his head against your chest once more to seek out the precious sound of a heartbeat.

Nothing. There was nothing. You had no pulse at all.

He felt himself sink to the floor while still helplessly clutching at your lifeless body. This couldn’t be. He had failed you. His best friend, when you had needed him most.

An indescribable sort of agony welled up within him. He felt burning tears prick at his eyes and choked out your name again as he held you close, rocking back and forth as if he could somehow summon you back to his side by begging your motionless form. Finally his head dropped back, and he let out an anguished scream.

~

“HAAAAAH!” Raph bolted upright in bed, met with total darkness save for the faint glow of his alarm clock on the nearby nightstand. It took him a solid half minute to regain his bearings, and as his adrenaline raced and grief continued to wash over him, he realized that he’d been dreaming.

It was just a dream? Holy  _shell._

He wiped a sheen of sweat off his temple and then stared down at his hands, which were tangled in his thick blanket. His breathing was still rough as he panted a little, and he waited for it to subside. Then all at once he scrambled for his phone, fully aware that it was the middle of the night, and dialed the first number that came to mind.

No one picked up for several rings, but at last a very groggy, wonderfully familiar voice answered him.

“Raph?” He tried to ignore how similar you sounded in that moment to the debilitated version of you from his nightmare. “It’s the middle of the night. What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

“( _Name_ ). You…you’re all right?” He closed his eyes weakly, feeling a surge of relief flood through him.

“Huh? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Did something happen?” You sounded a little more alert now, and he heard the sound of your sheets rustling.

“Yeah. Kinda.” He exhaled, trying to get a better hold of himself. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya. Uh, I know it’s...” He paused, glancing over at his clock. Ouch. “...3:15 in the morning, but d’you mind if I come see ya, even just for a few minutes?”

“Raph, what  _happened_?” You were taken aback by the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice. He knew that he must sound deeply shaken, and truth be told, he was. Not that he was keen on admitting it.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, reaching up to rub at the back of his head while sighing again. "I guess the stress is startin’ to get to me. Had this real shitty dream. Some Foot soldiers had attacked ya, and—” He broke off, unable to continue. You were quiet for a moment as you absorbed this, but when you spoke again, your voice was gentle and understanding.

"Of course you can stop by."

“You sure?” he asked, though he was already sliding out of bed and reaching for his mask and pair of sai. He already knew that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he saw for himself that you were safe and sound. It might be selfish, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m sure. Be careful on your way over, okay?” Concern lined your voice.

“Don’t worry about it,” he promised, “See ya soon.” He stashed his phone away and finished getting ready in less than a minute. Then he was out of his room and darting past his brothers’ closed doors, where hopefully they were sleeping more peacefully than he’d been.

No one was awake to ask Raph where he was going, much to his relief. He didn’t feel like explaining himself right then. But he also didn’t want to keep you up much longer while you indulged his impulsive whim, so he wasted no time in hauling himself up past the heavy manhole cover. Then he scaled the nearest fire escape and hurried across several rooftops, nimbly leaping over adjacent alleyways while he moved past the dimly lit streets.

New York was almost deserted for once in the dead of the night, and for that he was grateful. The air was bracing, but he found he appreciated it as it forced him to focus on moving quickly and helped numb some of the residual anxiety that had latched onto him after his nightmare. All the same, he was cold-blooded and ashamed to note that he was shivering by the time he reached the veranda outside your apartment.

He rapped his large knuckles on the window and you let him inside within seconds. At once he gathered you into his arms and pressed you tightly against his plastron, burying his face in your hair and throwing all decorum to the wind. After your initial surprise faded away, your arms encircled his neck and you rubbed the back of his head in hopes of soothing his nerves.

He heaved a shuddering sigh while your fingers caught in the tails of his bandanna. You couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so vulnerable in front of you, and you found it alarming. Whatever he’d dreamed about, it had been enough to perturb him in a way you’d never seen before. You were just glad that he felt comfortable enough to come to you when he was feeling so susceptible.

“Thanks for letting me come by,” he whispered.

“Red, you’re freezing!” You pulled away from him to go retrieve a soft fluffy blanket, and draped it around his shoulders before he could object. “Can I make you some hot tea to help warm you up?”

“Wait a sec. I don’t wanna keep you up,” he protested, trying not to make it obvious just how inviting that offer sounded. The blanket smelled just like you, a sweet and slightly spicy scent comprised of jasmine and patchouli, and he found himself taking an appreciative whiff. He flushed when you caught him with a little grin while glancing over your shoulder.

“It’s okay. Some things are more important than sleep.” You smiled at him and he felt like a colossal tool for doing this to you, even as you took his arm and guided him toward the kitchen. You put the kettle on and retrieved a couple of mugs and tea bags from the cupboard and pantry. Then you settled down across from him at the table while you waited for the water to boil.

"Sorry for bargin’ in like this," Raph mumbled, fidgeting with his hands in front of him. His guilty gaze shifted from you to somewhere in the distance. "It's just...good to see ya safe, that's all."

"Thanks for checking up on me. I'm sorry that your dream rattled you so badly." You reached across the table and squeezed one of his hands. He stared at you again, though you released him as if you had thought nothing of it, and now watched him with evident concern.

"Hey…make sure ya watch yourself whenever you're on the way to the lair or out runnin’ errands. Okay?" He already felt like a nag as soon as the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t help it. He had never before so directly faced the notion of something happening to you, and he found that it left him scrambling.

"I will, Dad," you teased, "Besides, don't I have the greatest friends in the world that I can turn to when I'm in a pinch?"

"Yeah." He swallowed a little, giving you what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Hit me up any time, night or day. If ya need me, I'll be there as soon as I can. Y’know that, right?"

"I know. The same goes for you, Raph." You were touched, and you shared another wavering smile before the shrill sound of the kettle whistling drew your attention. You rose to your feet and treaded back into the kitchen, then returned a few minutes later with steaming mugs of gloriously hot tea. You set one down in front of him, and he finally cracked a grin when he noticed that you had chosen your Player One and Player Two mugs, a birthday gift from Mikey designed to resemble game controllers.

"Thanks." You waited for the bags to steep and made small talk in the meantime, which distracted him from the vivid memories of the awful dream. The hot liquid worked miracles on his nerves. He was feeling much better by the time he’d drained the entire cup, and at last both the cold chill from his trip here and the sense of dread seeped out of him. His relief must have been palpable on his face because you also relaxed.

"Feeling a little better now?" you asked kindly. He inclined his head with slight embarrassment, averting his eyes a little as he felt his face grow a bit hot, and he wasn't entirely certain that it was because of the warm drink. It wasn’t often that he got to glimpse this softer side of you, considering how often the two of you bantered. What the hell was wrong with him?

"So," he said conversationally while trying to change the subject, "How often do the others swing by, anyway? I feel bad that you're always makin’ the trek out to the lair."

"Mikey comes by at least once a week or two for gaming night," you answered with a laugh, "Sometimes Donnie will drop by to watch a movie or read together, and Leo’s my sanity whenever I’ve had a lousy day. I wouldn’t complain if you visited more often, you know. I like it when it’s just the two of us.”

You winked at him and he busied himself by fixating his gaze upon the bottom of his empty mug.   _I like it when it’s just the two of us._ For some reason the lighthearted statement made his chest feel tight, but he tried to write it off as nothing.

"Uh...if ya want me to come by more often, I'd be glad to," he heard himself saying, and while he meant it, the previously pleasant temperature of the room suddenly seemed stifling. You gave no sign that you’d noticed. Instead you nodded while sipping at your beverage, though before long you began yawning and it was infectious. Raph staved off a yawn of his own before rising to his feet. Perhaps a subconscious part of him wanted to break away from the disconcerting atmosphere.

"Thanks for having me over. It's good to see ya safe," he admitted, "You coming over tomorrow after work, by the way? Mikey’s gonna pitch a fit if you’re not there for Taco Tuesday.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke.

"I’m the one bringing the guac, so yes.” You laughed. “But for now, how about you go get some rest? It's almost 4 a.m.” You pointed this out worriedly, but Raph shrugged.

"I could say the same thing to you. Sorry for doing this to ya in the middle of the night." You deposited your empty mugs into the sink before he stepped back out onto the veranda. A freezing gust of night wind wafted through the doorway and you shivered. Raph handed you back your blanket, and you chewed on your lower lip.

"We should really look into getting you guys jackets. Like, actual coats to keep you warm. I get that you need to be as agile as possible if you're out on patrol and end up fighting against the Foot or Purple Dragons or whoever, but on a night like tonight? I feel terrible that none of my jackets are big enough to fit you."

The tall terrapin chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled in his chest, and he pulled you into a quick, one-armed hug. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine. I'll see ya tomorrow, all right?"

"You've got it. Good night, Red."

"Night, ( _Name_ )." You parted, and he glanced at you over his shoulder again before he used the nearby railing to haul himself up and ascend to the roof, disappearing into the night with a persistent constricted feeling in his chest.

This…was growing complicated fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to make the next chapter longer. Seriously, I love you guys btw - the outpouring of support and kind comments means so much to me! Thank you!! <3 I have some really cute shit planned for when the nature of their relationship shifts. I'm going to get us there, I swear!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve got some introspection this chapter. I just love these boys so much, if you couldn’t already tell. Donatello is a gift. In some ways this entire story is just an excuse to write a love letter to the brothers. They deserve all the appreciation in the world.
> 
> (I also really love all of you! <3 Wow, the TMNT community is seriously the best. Thanks for everything, guys!)

You knew nothing about cars.

Okay, so that wasn’t  _entirely_ true. You knew that a light in your dashboard required immediate attention. If your timing belt snapped, the whole vehicle was as good as bricked. It was equally bad news if you smelled your gasket burning or your transmission went. Yikes.

But that was about it. You had a license to drive a car, not work on one like a mechanic.

“Donnie, I adore you, but I’m not seeing how I’m going to be of any assistance here.”

You crouched beside the golden-eyed terrapin, who currently had a welding mask lowered over his face. He lifted a power tool in one hand while he examined a serrated incision in the Tartaruga’s side, the result of a recent skirmish with the Foot Clan. He was a little distracted and only half-listening, so your comment didn’t seem to register.

“Mind stepping back a little? I don’t want any of this to get in your eyes.” You shrugged and obeyed, and a moment later sparks began to fly in every direction as the tool whirred to life.

Donnie planned to repair the Tartaruga and implement an upgrade afterward. For whatever reason, he had asked you to join him. But you couldn’t tell a carburetor from a compressor, leaving you no choice but to keep a safe distance. He knew that perfectly well, too, making the invitation all the more baffling. Maybe he just wanted you to keep him company for the afternoon.

You blew out a sigh and leaned back against the damp wall of the underground subway tunnel. It was an adjacent shaft to the lair where the turtles stored the modified garbage truck whenever it wasn’t in use. You listened to the remote dripping of a pipeline and persistent humming of the power tool, occupying yourself by observing the scientist at work.

Donnie spent the better part of the next fifteen minutes hunched over the hulking machine. His tongue peeked out of his mouth as he fell into deep concentration. Lean limbs shifted with a dexterous grace each time he repositioned himself for a better angle, and the whole process clearly came to him as second nature by now. Donnie’s inclination toward tinkering and repairing was more than just a mere hobby; it was a way of life that brought him fulfillment.

You crisscrossed your legs and smiled at him even though he couldn’t see it. He had no idea how extraordinary he really was. Donatello was a literal genius in his own right, and given the right tools and opportunities, you felt confident that he was capable of changing the world. Yet despite it, he was as modest as they came. He didn’t have a single arrogant bone in his body and would give a complete stranger the proverbial shirt off his back in a heartbeat. He was thoughtful, sweet-tempered, and dependable to a fault, not to mention one of the kindest people you’d ever known. You counted yourself as immeasurably lucky to have befriended him.

None of the turtles understood just how special they were, now that you thought about it.

Mikey was a brimming well of optimism, resilience, and cheeky humor. He possessed the ability to bounce back from any situation even when things seem to be at their most bleak. Despite his childlike and constantly energized demeanor, he had also proven to be a sympathetic listener. This was not something you’d expected when he first found you crumpled to your apartment floor a month after you met, blubbering after a stressful and overwhelming day at the office.

But he shed the comical persona at once, ran to grab you a box of tissues, and rubbed your back until you finished sniveling about one of your exceptionally cantankerous managers who'd taken one too many Bitch Pills that day. He then made you laugh through your tears by doing a hysterical impression of said manager, and you spent the rest of your evening binging old  _Whose Line Is It Anyway?_  episodes until you were cheerful again. You were still tremendously grateful to him for that night.

The team’s leader, on the other hand, was exceptional in an unexpected way, and not just because he was so responsible and mature. Leo was also deeply considerate, which you supposed made sense seeing as how he led a team of ragtag ninja warriors and kept himself mindful of their needs both on missions and as a family. Once you developed a close friendship, it became apparent that you were no exception to the rule. He regularly went out of his way to ensure that you made it home safely after visiting the lair, a protective habit perhaps ingrained in him after many years of being responsible for his siblings. Okay, perhaps he was just a _tad_  stubborn.

But regardless of how busy he was, Leonardo also found time for you every time you needed him, something that meant the world to you. No matter what was upsetting you he was willing to drop everything and lend you a patient ear, even if it meant talking to you at 1 in the morning. That was one of Leo's best qualities. Whenever you confided in him, he had a way of making you feel as though you were the only person in his world and on his mind, even if only for that moment. His full, undivided attention never wavered and he never belittled you for your troubles. You lost track of the number of times his level-headed demeanor had grounded you and given you stability when you needed it most, even despite carrying so much on his shoulders.

Then there was Raph. Sure, the team’s heavyweight was sarcastic, reckless, hot-headed, and impulsive. His temper was nothing to sneeze at and you didn’t envy anyone on the receiving end of his genuine wrath, by and large Foot cronies who dared to threaten his family. But another soft smile found its way onto your lips. Despite everything, there was so much more to him than met the eye. Beneath the rough veneer and green skin was the most passionate and determined man you’d ever met. He cared  _and_ worried, no matter how much he sometimes tried to conceal it under the guise of impatience or irritation.

Raph was defined by his loyalty and dedication to his loved ones, not to mention he was incredibly courageous. He wouldn’t hesitate for an instant to put himself in danger if it meant protecting you or his brothers, though he was often intractable when it came to acknowledging his own emotions. Sometimes his confidence stumbled when confronted with the unexpected, exposing a gentler side of him that was prone to embarassment and vulnerability. He wasn’t nearly as brusque as he made himself out to be and it endeared him to you all the more.

When Chet hurt you, Raph would have gone to the ends of the earth to make things right (not that you’d _let_  him rearrange Chet’s face, but it was the thought that counted). That being said, he respected your wishes and had been helping you in other ways since then, most notably when he showed you New York’s skyline from a most unorthodox vantage point, all just to see you smile again.

You couldn't begin to imagine how different your life would be if you had never met them.

The droning eventually tapered off when Donnie shut down his power tool and brought you back to reality, though not until a solid twenty minutes had ticked by first. He pushed himself to his feet and shot you an apologetic look, as if he just now realized he’d had you on standby while he worked.

“Don’t worry about it!” You interjected before he could say anything. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s not like I know anything about mechanics anyway, and I enjoy watching you work.”

“Actually, I  _could_ use your help. I called you here for a reason, remember? I’m just about done fusing the broken segment and have something fun in mind for the next upgrade.” Amusement gleamed in his eyes as if he could sense your trepidation. You highly doubted you would be of any use, but you were still game if he wanted to teach you the ropes.

“Sure, why not? I’ll do what I can. Just don’t blame me if something blows up!”

The upgrade he’d mentioned was a turbo-charged engine that would allow the Tartaruga to reach previously unheard of speeds, in part because the machine had once suffered significant damage when attempting to dodge a rocket launcher. Yes, seriously. That was the sort of thing that the turtles often went up against whenever they picked a fight with the well-equipped Foot Clan. You couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried.

“But do you know what sort of impact that’ll have on the engine in the long run? How sustainable is that level of speed given the truck’s current gas mileage?” you asked as you examined the blueprints together. If nothing else, at least you understood the concepts behind it all. “I’m concerned about you guys running out of fuel and burning out during a critical moment.”

“Very astute observations,” Donnie answered with a pleased smile, “But fortunately already accounted for! I’m upgrading the tank’s total capacity to address the fuel issue, and plan to install a switch to give us the option to manually engage turbo velocity only when needed. This will reduce the burden on the engine, and under normal circumstances we’ll have a speed cap comparable to that of the current Tartaruga.”

“Which is no small thing, seeing as how you’ve managed to push this thing to over 120 miles per hour before,” you pointed out, half in exasperation, half in admiration. His smile widened.

“Indeed. Theoretically, though, we’d only need to make use of this in an emergency. It’s too dangerous to employ on a whim.”

“Meaning you should probably make it Mikey-proof as well,” you suggested, and you both chuckled.

“And  _that’s_ why Leo or I usually drive instead.” 

You lapsed into comfortable conversation together as you began installing the upgrade for the next few hours. Donnie had to give you detailed instructions for each of your designated tasks, but your overall progress was surprisingly straightforward and efficient.

Eventually nature called and you rose to your feet while dusting yourself off. That iced tea from earlier had gone straight through you.

“Mind if I take a quick bathroom break?”

“Of course.” Donnie watched you stroll back into the heart of the lair with a fond smile on his face, and heard a loud, “ _Whoa_! I didn’t know you were visiting today, baby girl!” from a delighted Mikey out in the hallway.

But his smile waned after a few moments had passed and your cheery voices faded away. While he was relieved that you seemed to be doing well, Donatello also knew you like the back of his hand. Ever since he met you, you had made it a priority to treat the brothers as if they were your very own family, and he loved you for it. All of them did.

But that also meant you couldn’t deceive him. A part of you was still hurting whether or not you wanted to admit it, and he couldn’t help but worry about you. You had a tendency to put on a brave face for the world and would sooner pretend that nothing was amiss even if something was eating away at you inside. Donnie could sense the gradual shift as you mended over time, which was surely a good sign. But he still knew that things weren’t so simple.

But if you weren’t ready to talk about it yet, then he wasn’t about to push you. You knew he was there for you, just as you’d always been there for him, and he was content to wait.

That being said, maybe next time he ought to invite you to partake in something a little more frivolous. In the best way, of course. None of his brothers shared his embarrassing love for Disney films quite the way you did, and he still had yet to see  _Coco_ , which you swore up and down was an instant classic with gushing enthusiasm.

Donnie smiled again at the memory. It never took long to remember why he loved spending time with you.

When you poked your head back in ten minutes later, however, you were holding your phone up with a sheepish expression.

“Can we take a rain check on cleaning up the Turtle Express, Don? April just messaged me about grabbing dinner tonight at that new café. Mikey’s beside himself with envy, of course.”

“Of course he is.” Donnie had to laugh. “Sure, go ahead. We’ve nearly managed to wrap this up, anyway. Thanks for all your help, ( _Name_ ).”

“No problem! I’m glad you had me over. Believe it or not, I learned a lot today. Not that I can foresee any situation where I’ll need to modify my car like this, but I’m sure it doesn’t hurt to know.”

“Don’t give him any ideas. He might take you seriously, and then you’ll wake up to a fully-equipped Toyota Corolla capable of gunning down a legion of Foot ninja.” Leo’s wry comment came from behind you as he strode past, making you jump a little. You grinned at him over your shoulder as he made his way toward the dojo, which he returned with a quick wink of his own to show that he was only joking despite his serious tone of voice. Donnie shook his head with just a hint of exasperation.

“Don’t listen to him, please. Anyway, are you heading out now?”

You bobbed your head and extended your arms for a hug, which always presented a challenge given that Donatello was the tallest of the brothers. But you made it work by meeting each other halfway, wherein he wrapped his arms around your waist and boosted you into the air just enough to meet his height. This had been awkward at first until you grew comfortable with each other over time, and now neither of you batted an eyelash. You embraced him before he gently set you back down.

“Thanks for everything today.” You beamed at him.

“Any time.” His eyes shone with sincerity behind his glasses. “Say hi to April for me.”

“Will do!” You headed back into the lair to say goodbye to the others. It was a relief to see you were still capable of smiling with such candor, even after everything that had happened.

It might take a little more time, but he knew you were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies once again for being unable to update earlier! There are some very stressful things going on in my personal life right now that have made it difficult to work on my fics. That being said, I will definitely try to roll out the next update sooner. Sorry that this one wasn't too exciting, but hopefully better than nothing. Stay cool in the summer heat! <3


End file.
